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I should have been at school, in weapons training or listening to a lecture on physics. No, that wasn’t right. A stranger was supposed to ruin me so I might wander at will into the fog.
Now I knew better.
Having experienced the complicated, horrific process of sex, I’m not sure I would have survived that kind of pain with some unknown male. Dying of shame from some random penetration as I screamed for mercy in a dark alley….
Intercourse was not a few quick thrusts and bursts of fluids like I had seen in the human pornography. Cyderial opening, knotting, and breeding me had taken hours.
For two days, I’d slumbered in the aftermath.
Where would I have sheltered lost in the city?
Would I have been left lying in the street?
No wonder Sylvia had acted so tired and sore the night I ran to warn her to lighten her hair all those years ago. She had just suffered; she’d needed the heavy sleep I had pulled her from it to drag her to the sink.
There would have been no hiding her escapades.
Which is why she never returned once the general had summoned her to his office.
I didn’t even know if she was alive.
YetIfeltveryalive. As if my eyes had finally opened to what I was bred to be.
And I didn't understand myself at all.
Recovering in Cyderial’s arms, the fabric over my nipples wet and clinging, my skirt high enough that modesty was lost, I retreated into shy embarrassment.
And hid my face.
A warm hand stroked my hair. “Look at me.”
I could not possibly meet Cyderial’s eyes, not after how I had behaved.
He tried to cup my face, to guide my attention where he willed it, but I was in no mood to acquiesce. Jerking my chin from the soft touch that thought to urge my eyes higher, I looked anywhere but at him.
Patient nonetheless, he murmured, “You are beautiful, my sweet mate. Your behavior was perfectly natural, and it was my honor to tend to you.”
Cheeks flushing a deep-red, it was that very moment my body chose to leak more slippery fluid from between my spread thighs. A warm, wet rush he could not have missed.
The chair, the floor, his trousers, all of it was saturated in me.
I could not have been more humiliated.
Yet he was unconcerned about the mess.
Quiet moments passed as he stroked my hair and seemingly ignored each time more slick warmed his lap.
With deep compassion, he said, “You’re confused right now. I understand. How could you feel so good with someone you hate so much?”
I did hate him. Thoughts of his mouth on my body and how much I had relished the rough texture of his tongue would haunt me.
Suspicion eating up my shame, I confessed what he no doubt already knew. “I’m still hot. It wasn’t enough.”
He kissed away the tears on my cheeks. “No, but I have bought you a few hours to rest and consider.”
If all he’d claimed was true about heat and mates, I would very soon indeed be screaming for him to hurt me the way he had hurt me in his office.
I wasn’t even sure if I could make it a few hours.
